With Grace
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: Tag to Grace Period. "He’d missed too many chances; he wasn’t going to let this one escape."


A/N: I saw the episode "Grace Period" last night for the first time, and I thought it was very sad. So of course I had to write a tag for it.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.

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**With Grace**

Tony collapsed against the wall when he heard the explosion, the heat emanating against his palms and side.

"No…" he protested, throat constricting. "No, no, _no._"

"DiNozzo-" Gibbs tugged at his arm, trying to pull him away, but Tony could only think about one thing.

"Paula..."

She could not have survived. They had lost another agent.

"Tony!"

He felt himself being pulled away, out of the dingy room and into the bright sunlight. Gibbs had him under one elbow, and Ziva (he realized she'd been the one to call his name) held a tight grip on his other arm.

They pushed him onto the curb. Gibbs folded himself into a sitting position next to his agent, but Ziva released her grip and stepped away.

"I'll go help McGee," she murmured, looking relieved to escape the moment. She turned and disappeared back into the building.

Tony blinked and his numb haze lifted. He became horribly aware of what had just happened and where he was sitting—and of the man watching him with concern.

"I'm sorry, boss," he said automatically, and then winced in anticipation of the head-slap that didn't come. Instead, Gibbs sighed and sagged forward, folding his hands on his knees.

"You all right?"

"Yeah…well…I'm alive."

Alive. Unlike Paula. Unlike Rick Hall and Jim Nelson. Unlike Kate, whose death of over a year ago suddenly felt like it had occurred moments before.

_It could be us every single day of the week. Sometimes it has been._

But not today. Not yesterday or the day before. Just _sometimes._

He took a shaky breath and let his head hang on his chest, studying the grainy asphalt between his knees.

The world had suddenly become a different place—an emptier place.

Memories of dancing in Cuba, her hands fitting perfectly inside his. Gentle kisses. Phone calls in the early hours of the morning. Someone you could tell anything to without fear of rejection.

He tasted bitter copper, and realized with some shock that he'd been biting down hard on his lower lip. He clamped his mouth shut, but the dam built over his emotions broke at the same time and unbidden tears began to fall.

_Life's too short not to tell someone you love them when you do; and you do._

"I should've…I should've told her."

"Told her what?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"How I felt."

"...you loved Paula."

Tony shook his head, staring forward as the medical van pulled up and Ducky stepped out.

"No. At least…not like you think. I loved…"

Food fights in the bullpen. Shared smiles, inside jokes. Movie nights. Secrets.

"Kate," Gibbs finished for him.

"Yeah." He turned to look his superior in the eye. "Why do we always lose them, boss?"

The older man surveyed him seriously. "I don't know," he said finally.

"Jethro?" Ducky stood a few paces away, a deep sadness in his eyes.

Gibbs stood and squeezed Tony's shoulder. "Take the rest of the day off. I don't think the Director's gonna want us to handle this one anyways."

His tone was stoic but the look in his eyes was not, and Tony felt that the two had just shared something—a moment, an experience. Gibbs had also lost people he loved, after all.

"Okay."

--

Later that evening found Tony standing in front of his girlfriend's door.

It was too late to tell Kate how he felt; too late to thank Paula for being such a good friend. But there was still time to fix things with Jeanne.

He remembered the rock climbing incident he'd told Paula about.

"_Whoever gets to the top first says 'I love you,'" she bargained, grinning with flushed excitement._

_He smiled indulgently, even though his instincts were screaming at him to run the other way._

"_You're on."_

_But he forgot about the bet. They were having such a good time laughing and joking, and neither was in any particular hurry to finish. When Tony's fingers rang the bell first, he was more than a little surprised. Jeanne drew even with him one short moment later. She smiled expectantly._

"_You win!"_

_He stared at her, a deer caught in the headlights. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He _couldn't. _He couldn't say it._

"_Jeanne-"_

"_It doesn't matter," she said quickly, as hurt crossed her features. "It's okay, Tony." And she rapelled back down to the floor._

He'd felt guilty, at first. Then embarrassed.

Part of him still wanted to get away, fast. He was lying to Jeanne, after all. Their relationship was based on a lie.

But…he _did _love her. The lie had grown into a truth, and she needed to know. Before it was too late. He'd missed too many chances; he wasn't going to let this one escape.

He raised a fist and poised it in front of the door

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he let it go.

For Paula. And…for Kate.

He knocked. The door opened.

She looked at him in surprise, and he looked right back.

"I love you, Jeanne."

**

_"Grace is love that cares and stoops and rescues." ~John R.W. Scott_


End file.
